“Nay. Let’s rejoin the others.” He crossed the water and paused only to pick up more kindling.
She ground her teeth and passed him, continuing up the hill to the camp, Jamie stayed a few steps below her. How ironic that he followed her now, after all the years she’d spent chasing him. And Toran, of course. To no avail. Jamie had not wanted her then. He certainly did not want her now she was promised to another man.
****
Jamie tossed another twig onto the fire, watching the yearling doe Bram and Ewan had killed roasting for their supper. Hunger eluded him. It was all he could do not to run into the woods and howl at the moon like a lonely wolf calling its mate. While the indignity of the idea made him snort, he had good reason to feel that way. Caitrin’s lush body in his arms, her tiny waist in his hands, her breasts pressed against his forearm, had stolen his breath, his voice, his reason.
But rather than give in to his urge to ravish her in that moment, he’d let her go back up the hill by herself and stopped to pick up the kindling he’d dropped, giving himself some space, not looking at her, not feeling, or smelling her. His body’s response had been instantaneous, yet he’d managed to step away before she noticed. And following her up the hill had given him time to get his unruly flesh back under control without the embarrassment of arriving in camp dripping wet from a dunking in the creek’s cold water.Damn her.
Surely, that slip had not been intentional. As a lass, she’d been as sure-footed as the deer roaming these hills. Did she now toy with him, even though she was promised to another? He scrubbed a hand over his face. She’d always had an independent streak. Did she intend to dally with him before bending to her father’s will? Or her betrothed’s?
What had happened to Caitrin Fletcher these last six years? Besides the obvious. She’d grown into a breathtaking young woman. As a lad, he’d fancied her. Now, he had no words for the hunger that consumed him each time he looked upon her. Holding her in his arms had been torture—a torture he’d give anything to suffer again and again.
But he told himself that could not be. He was here because her father meant to promise her to another, and Jamie had only one recourse. He must see her safe to her father and her betrothed. Not have her. Not touch her in any way. No matter how much he wished to.
Irritated, he stood and paced away from the fire, heedless of his path. Caitrin, he noted, stood at the edge of the firelight, deep in conversation with her father’s taciturn ghillie. Which meant she was doing most of the talking, since Jamie had not heard the man utter more than four words in a row the entire trip from the Aerie to Fletcher and from Fletcher to this campsite, except when he argued for more men to accompany them. For a moment, Jamie entertained the notion of listening in, since Caitrin appeared to be continuing the lecture she’d given Will on the hillside. She could rant and rave all she wanted. It wouldn’t matter. Jamie was quite certain the man took his duty to her seriously.
Will, she called him. Willful might be a better choice. Willfully determined to see to Caitrin’s safety. To keep Caitrin out of Jamie’s clutches. Just as Jamie should do. Which meant keeping his distance at all times. Like now, when his body still hungered for hers, and his mind liked the crackle and spark of her temper and wit—at least as long as that temper remained directed at Will.
Jamie averted his gaze and kept walking. Away from her and the temptation she represented. The darkness outside the circle of firelight beckoned. He doubted he’d be hungry any time soon. He expected sleep would be elusive, as well. He might as well relieve one of the sentries and take the watch. That would keep him occupied with something he knew how to do, rather than trying to deal with the conundrum Caitrin now represented. He’d have to keep his gaze away from their camp, focused out into the night.
Aye, he’d keep her safe. From himself.
****
Where was Jamie off to? Over Will’s shoulder, Caitrin saw him as he stood and marched out of camp. Aye, marched. There was nothing casual in his movements. Had he heard or seen something outside the perimeter of their firelight?
She could barely focus on anything Will said. Jamie stole her attention every time he came near.
“What are ye dreamin’ about, lass?”
It took a moment for Caitrin to realize Will stopped talking. She pulled her gaze from Jamie’s retreating back and focused on the man in front of her. Her father’s distant cousin and most trusted kinsman. They hadn’t so much as grown up together as grown up in parallel. She, spending years with the Lathans, Will learning what he could, helping her father and being the son Fletcher never had. They were almost of an age, she and Will. He had two winters on her. When she’d returned to her Fletcher home from her fostering, Will had at first ignored her, and then he tried to woo her. But her father would have none of that, ambitious as he was for her to make a much better marriage for Fletcher.
Poor Will.
Now he was relegated to running her father’s errands. Chasing over the countryside to deliver her safely to another man. Just as Jamie was doing. But there the comparison ended. Jamie was the lad she’d given her heart to years ago, whether he knew it or not. When she’d argued with her father an alliance with the Lathans, with Jamie, would benefit Fletcher, too, he’d scoffed. He already had an alliance with Lathan, or she would never have been sent to them after her mother’s death. He would not waste her there. He had bigger plans. Ever dutiful daughter, she had bowed her head and acquiesced, never suspecting fate could be so cruel as to send Jamie to her now.
Will never stood a chance with her, not while she had any hope of Jamie coming back into her life. She’d spent years dreaming of it.
But not like this. Never like this. The shock of her father’s pronouncement, that he would marry her to the MacGregor, did not compare to the shock of seeing Jamie in Fletcher Hall instead of Toran, even though Will had told her he’d be there. He was the last man on earth she wanted escorting her to the MacGregor. What terrible thing had she done for fate to bring back the man she wanted into her life, only to have him deliver her to a stranger she must accept?
Caitrin yanked her attention back to the present. Will waited for an answer. One she could not give him. No doubt, her father had confided her interest in Jamie to Will. No doubt, Will had been little pleased at the Lathan’s choice for her escort, but she could not rub salt in that wound. Will deserved better.
“Nothing, Will. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day. After a bit of supper,” she said, gesturing at the roasting meat, “I’ll be glad of a chance to rest.”
She glanced around. Jamie had disappeared. One of Jamie’s men, Ewan, if she remembered correctly, tended to their meal at the fire. He saw her glance his way and gestured them over.
“A few cuts are nicely roasted, if ye would like some now. But I’m runnin’ low on firewood. If yer man wouldna mind taking food to the Lathans standing guard, he could gather more deadfall.”
“Will, would ye?”
“Of course. I’ll be back.” He took a double handful of dinner portions on a trencher of bread the Fletcher cook packed, and headed off into the darkness across the face of the hill. Jamie had gone the opposite way. Suddenly, Caitrin’s appetite deserted her.
“I think I’ll wait for ye to take care of the others,” she told Ewan, and made her way out of the camp in the direction she’d last seen Jamie go. Beyond the reach of their fire, darkness descended quickly and completely. Broken clouds covered the waning moon then drifted past, brightening the gloom before others took their place. Where had Jamie gone?
Caitrin didn’t have to walk far to decide she’d come on a fool’s errand. If she didn’t fall and hurt herself, she’d get lost and have the entire camp out searching for her, infuriating both Will and Jamie. She was about to turn back and retrace her steps when a low growl warned her she wasn’t alone.
She froze as the growl sounded again. Wolf? Or wildcat? What else roamed a highland forest in the middle of the night? She took a careful step forward and winced as a twig snapped under her boot. The answering hiss told her what the growl had not. Wildcat. Small and fierce, they hunted rabbits and birds, but could take down larger prey. She must have wandered too near its den. This time of year, it might be protecting kittens. Best to move away—quickly.
